


The Fix Is In.

by ByEnchantingHuman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Corrupter!Ruby, Downward Spiral, Drug Addict!Sam, Extreme Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, M/M, May Cause Upset To Younger Viewers, Not recommended for Jess lovers, Slow Build, Smut, Student!Ruby, student!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByEnchantingHuman/pseuds/ByEnchantingHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I admire addicts. In a world where everybody is waiting for some blind, random disaster or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of his death from being a total surprise.”<br/>― Chuck Palahniuk, Choke</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A good idea at the time.

**Author's Note:**

> “The point of fics set in alternate universes are to show that no matter what setting or circumstance, these two people will always find each other. I will find you. Every me loves every you.”-Unknown

“Prelaw, Philosophy and…Art History _._ ” Sam listed monotonously, stuffing the required text-books into his backpack, before lugging it over his shoulder, with a disgruntled huff. His shoulders slumped, as his body struggled to adjust to the extra weight. He slammed his locker shut with a purposeful thud--allowing the shoddily erected _Harrison_ _building_  to rattle thunderously.

He blinked rapidly, peering curiously down at his tightly secured wrist-watch, a smug smile tugging at his lips- _09:16am_ \- 25 minutes until his first lecture of the day-Sam was on the metaphorical ‘ball’, he thought with a satisfied grunt. So much so, he had time to spare/and or _waste_. He started down the hallway, juggling his binder, packed to the brim with his assignments and essays, which were incidentally due _today_ -organisation skills of his calibre, were a damn talent(or so he’d been told)- and his _precious_ laptop, which he clutched protectively to his chest.

He carried on hastily towards the cafeteria, clumsily dodging the armies of students rushing from classroom, to classroom, his tall frame swaying against the ‘flow’-- ‘ _story of my_ damn _life’_. The Stanford University hallways were continually likened to a War Zone. He took a steady intake of breath; raw frustration apparent in his rigid posture, as he stumbled out of the swarm, and through a pair of green double doors. The revolting stench of bland porridge and blackened bacon, assaulting his nostrils upon entry, yet he welcomed it. Rather a dingy cafeteria, than a sweaty, disorientating corridor.

Sam scanned the huddles of tables -scattered here and there- his dewy-eyes flitting over the differing faces, congregating and coercing with their ‘usual’ group of friend(s). The status quo wasn’t easily disrupted, and calling attention to himself, by sitting at another’s table, certainly wasn’t Sam’s style. Upon realising that Brady wasn’t around; unfortunately. He shyly made his way to an empty table, plonking down with a huff. He opened his backpack, and yanked out a worn copy of Dan Brown’s, Da Vinci Code, and settled further into his seat, his calloused fingers flicking to the page he’d previously dog-eared.   

* * *

“Honey?” A soft, _girlish_ voice, inquired from behind him. One silky smooth- perfectly manicured hand slipping onto his shoulder in greeting.

Sam’s eyes squeezed closed, his face contorted into a tight-lipped grimace. His fists clenched instinctively around the pages of his book, curling the already battered edges.

“Jess? What are you doin’ here? I thought you had Chem, first thing?”

“Hello Sammy. I do, but I can spare ten minutes” She crooned, a matter-of-factly, placing a gentle kiss upon his temple, and eagerly rounding the table, her luscious blonde hair flowing in her wake, a dimpled smile brightening her features- - _I should be thankful_ -He reprimanded himself, swallowing guilty. “Guess what?” She asked sweetly, her unfaltering blue eyes blinking at him behind a veil of blossoming lashes.  Sam reluctantly closed his book, and quirked a quizzical brow at her; not speaking a word, for fear of encouraging her.

When she didn’t speak, he sighed. “ _Enlighten_ me, please?”

“We’re going to a Halloween party, Sammy.” She giggled happily, bouncing playfully on the edge of her seat.

“A _party_?” Sam asked incredulously, his brow knitted together in confusion. His posture slouched, his eyes softening, carefully taking her petite hand in his, weaving their fingers together; he was bracing her for rejection, a position he hated taking-but one he had to step up to, quite often, what with his girlfriend’s over-excitable nature. “I don’t know, you know how I feel about Halloween.” Jessica’s smile faltered, a stubborn pout quickly replacing it, fixing him with a set of watery puppy-dog eyes that rivalled his own.

“Come on, Sam. Please.”

He winced, looking down at the graffiti littered table-top in contemplation. He and Jess had been stumbling along this rocky road for quite some time (though only Sam seemed to realise it), her demanding more, than he was willing to give. Both clinging to the companionship their _relationship_ provided, each too lonely without the other- especially now that Sam had lost all contact with his family. “Okay.” She’d pulled him through, and he owed her.

“Was that a yes?” A gruff male voice taunted from behind him, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. Sam’s face broke out into a goofy grin, readily dropping Jessica’s hand. “Jess, my leadin’ lady, you are sly, girl.” Brady laughed, giving Sam’s arm a hearty pat in greeting.  Brady dived into the seat beside his best friend, lifting Sam’s bag onto the floor, to make room.

“Damn it Brady! I should’ve guessed.” He chuckled ruefully, watching as his best-friend propped his legs up onto chair beside him.  “This had _you_ written all over it.” He turned back to Jess, who was sitting ideally, threading her blonde hair through her fingers. “—So when is this party?” He asked, with a shrug, directing the question at Brady. The ‘Mastermind’ behind this.

Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but Brady readily interrupted, swinging his legs off the bench, and blinking his unsurprisingly bloodshot eyes; _How many hours of sleep did you get last night Tyson?_ Sam wondered, in passing. _Not enough,_ again. “It’s tonight Sammy. You know? Fri-day night, is ladies night, if I recall correctly? It doesn’t involve dusty books, or draughty libraries. Just _fun_. You remember fun, don’t cha?”

“I remember _fun_ , Brady, but I think you and me, have different definitions of fun.” He argued. “Coming home at dawn, absolutely skunked-”

“Sam. It’s a party, that’s all. Not a _cult_. It’s on campus, within walking distance of your damn apartment. I’m not askin’ you to come out with me, on an all-night bender; you can stay as long as you want. Drink whatever you want- though I’d be weary of the punch. It’s got quite the kick.”

Brady stuck his tongue out in mock disgust, earning a breathless laugh from Sam. “My problem isn’t the _doing_ , it’s the freakin’ people. I know your crowd Brady, and damn it, I jus’ hate Halloween.”

 “I’m wounded Sam, really.” Brady choked out, placing a heavy hand upon his heart.

“Quit it with the theatrics, dude.”

“Anyway, when have you hung around with any of my friends? Sure, they haven’t got a fucking 174 SAT score, but they might surprise you.” He winked suggestively at him; his one track train of thought, chugging him straight into the gutter, as usual. He didn’t need to elaborate upon his meaning, Sam knew his friend all too well, he’d obviously forgotten Jessica’s existence momentarily. “What they lack in brains, they make up for in, uh… _intrigue_. Now, moving on, let’s talk costumes?”  

“Uh, no. Not happening, dickmonkey. Not _ever_.” Sam blurted quickly, before Jess could even process the thought, he knew she’d be revel in an imaginative challenge like that.

“Hey, it was worth a shot.” Brady confessed simply, with a nonchalant shrug, peering at the enormous clock, hung upon the cafeteria wall, before placing his head in his hands; his movements sluggish and disjointed.

“Brady, are you okay dude? I mean, no offense, but you look like Hell”

Brady’s head snapped up, scrunching up his nose in feigned annoyance. “Thankyou Gigantor, you don’t look so bad yourself. Been working out?”

The tousled haired boy sighed, his smile fading, as students began to file slowly out of the cafeteria, waving goodbye to friends as they stood, bags in hand—Sam had hardly noticed that his Free Period was almost up. “Here.” Brady said, as he too, rose from his seat, digging deep into his pocket; searching extensively. “-just in case I don’t see you beforehand.”

“Where is that damned thing?!” Brady cursed, a frown curving at his tight lips. His eyes widening finally, in recognition, and oddly, slight _relief,_ as he found what was lost. “Ah.” He pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper, and placed it on the table, carefully ironing out the creases before setting it down; shoving his car keys and lunch money back into his now-empty pocket, from where he’d turned them out. “Keep it safe, ‘cause this party. It’s exclusive.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, bewildered.

“It’s your _invitation_ , idiot.”

“An invitation?” He raised a quizzical brow at his friend.

“Don’t ask.”

Sam sighed in frustration, his curiosity piqued. “Come on, Brady…”

His best-friend laughed smugly, looking from Sam to Jess with a satisfied grin; childishly playing the ‘I know something you don’t’ card. “Let’s just say, this dude’s the _devil_ , and he despises party-crashers. It’s all a precaution.”

“You mean— _less_ people, will attract almost zero police attention.”

Brady slowly backed away from the table, a slight skip in his step; ‘subtly’ making his way to the exit, though his voice never rose above a whisper. “You got it, Winchester. He doesn’t want campus security sniffing around, slapping the handcuffs on half of his party guests, before things got into full swing- now _that_ would be a crime.”

“Naturally” Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes, as Brady finally pushed through the double doors.

“How bad could it be Sam, really? It’ll be great, I’m sure of it.” Jessica chirped pleasantly beside him, seemingly unphased by Brady’s flawed reassurances. “To whom it may concern-” She read aloud, drawing Sam’s attention, holding the slip of paper between her thumb and forefinger, her pale pink nails lazily highlighting the ruby-red letters spotting the paper. Sam sighed, peering over her shoulder and scanning the text, his eyes widening at the frankly, bizarre choice of wording, all centrally aligned.

“You have been cordially invited to celebrate All Hallow’s Eve at The Cage.”


	2. Crash the Party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, but i've been focusing so much on my career lately (I HATE Reality), but here it is- There's a lot of name drops in here, of some very well known demons- Can you guess some of them?- i'm hoping to update more regular now, and with your continued support hopefully I am achieve this. Thankq for your patience.

 

Chapter 2- Crash the Party.

Sam shook his head feverishly, a deflated sigh escaped his tightly clamped lips. His recently groomed locks, hung limply at cheeks, lacking their usual pristine shine. He groaned internally, the usually quite lengthy walk from his and Jess’s apartment, to the southernmost corner of campus, seemed all too ‘short’ and fleeting in Sam’s opinion. Even after all the effort he’d gone to, to prolong the inevitable, here he was, scrutinizing the heavy, rust bitten, metal knocker with obvious distain. _Well, this looks_ cosy.

 He’d practically dawdled across campus, adding a miraculous, seven minutes and forty-eight seconds onto their arrival time, and yet, it still wasn’t long enough for the youngest Winchester.  

A gentle tug on his shirt brought him out of his inner monologue, he looked down at his and Jessica’s intertwined hands and stifled a bark of laughter. Her sun-kissed fingers, thumbed lovingly at his own, slotting _perfectly_ into Sam’s open palm. He didn’t need freakin’ _comfort_ ; he wanted to leave. 

“Aren’t you going to knock, Sammy, honey?”

“O’course Jess, I’m just building myself up to it.” Sam muttered, defensively; ignoring the bewildered expression that flitted across Jessica’s soft features. After another lingering beat of silence, he sighed in defeat, taking a hold of the knocker,  “—here goes nothin’” and wrapping it firmly against the door. It opened almost immediately, as if they were expected.

“Welcome to The Cage, ho nuggets.” A rather, nasally, and altogether bored voice offered in greeting; not failing to hide her extreme lack of interest. _Interrupting your night, are we?_ “—you got an invite, and a name, sugar pants? ‘urry up, I ain’t got all day. Without _me_ , there is no party, if you catch my drift?”

The mouthy brunette flashed Sam a lopsided grin, she seemed pleasant enough. But Sam could tell this was all an act; to be as welcoming and humbling as possible, it seemed almost foreign on the girl’s blissfully full lips. Her smile fell flat though, due to her almost razor sharp cheekbones; she was all aggressive _angles_ and cut throat _corners_. Her cheeks were flushed, the result, of an excessive amount of alcohol consumption, her movements sluggish.

“You deaf? Give it, or piss off.”

“You soon changed your tune, little Miss Sunshine.” Sam shot back, hastily digging around in his jacket pocket, and yanking out the crumpled invite. “There, happy?—and its _Sam_.”

She didn’t retort, merely snatched the scrap of paper from Sam’s grasp, and gave it a slow once over; like she’d preformed this procedure a thousand times before. She then, without warning, tore it in two, pocketed one half, and returned the other to Sam. She stepped pointedly out of the way, evidently allowing them access. “I’m Meg, _Sam_. Enjoy your evening.”   

“I’ll try” Sam replied curtly, stepping across the threshold and into the darkness. Once the door had been closed, with a bone-rattling slam, it took a few moments for Sam’s eyes to fully adjust. _I’m trapped in the fires of purgatory_. **Help**.

The room was bathed, purposefully, in a creepy red fluorescent light, making the space appear, more cramped and dingy, than what it really was. Large intimidating groups, of five or six young adults congregated around the bar, buffet table and sofas. They were the kind of gangs you avoided in the street, for fear of being mugged, or threatened; all leather jackets, and knuckle-dusters. “Oh my--”

Jess tugged gently at Sam’s wrist, and with a nod of her head, she began pulling him towards a small cluster of chairs, in a quiet- _er_ corner of the room, beside an overzealous couple, who seemed to be attached at the lips “Over here.” She mouthed.

“Oi, watch it!” A gruff voice scolded, as Sam fell through the crowd; trampling folks with his feet. “I’m _so_ sorry.” He called out, striding over a puddle of puke. _ew_. “That was my faul-” but the voice was long gone. Sam hissed out a sigh of relief as they stumbled upon their seats; quite literally.

“I’m stayin’ here for the rest of the night.” Sam complained.

He scowled, slumping deeper into his hardback chair, uncomfortable and _hot_. Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by Sam’s actions. He folded his arms across his chest lazily, in a, ‘Don’t talk to me, I’m sulking’ gesture; this decision was final, and he wasn’t about to start an argument about it, so the pretty blonde reluctantly clamped her mouth shut, with a deliberate _pop_. The pair sat, making idle chit-chat for the better half of twenty minutes. Sam’s gaze trained on the carpet, refusing to make eye-contact with anyone other than Jess, _as a precaution_. He didn’t want to end this ‘swell’ evening, on the wrong side of a fist to the jaw.

“You’ll ace that Law School interview Sam, I just know it.” 

Sam sighed doubtfully, his eyes straying from overtly hideous floral carpet.

 “I uh, I don’t know--”A shadow flickered in his peripheral, the absence of light quickly drawing his attention. He readily dropped the conversation, without a second thought; his eyes falling onto a pair of slim, denim-wrapped calves.

 Jessica’s inane ~~babble~~ answer faded into the background; simply becoming a string of white noise, as Sam observed this stranger from afar, or rather, the _radical_ dance moves she was strutting. His mouth twitched in amusement.  

“ _Sam_?” Jess hummed.

The brunette lifted her long arms into the air, her fingers skirting across flesh, her movements fluid. “Sam!”

The youngest Winchester blinked and with a flash of wavy chestnut hair, the mysterious dancer was gone. His eyes frantically combed the dancefloor, searching everyone’s faces, but no one seemed to resemble _her_. He hurriedly pulled out his wallet, his mouth suddenly dry. “I-I’m getting a drink?” He was already halfway out of his seat, and taking a stride towards the bar, his question abrupt and frankly, _meaningless_. “You want a drink, Jess?”

“Uh, Bicardi and Coke _?_ ” She called carefully in response, utterly mystified.

Her answer fell on deaf ears.

                       ----------------

“- _Excuse me_?” Sam bellowed, motioning impatiently at the young, ~~clearly unqualified~~ bartender- trying unsuccessfully to gain her attention. She was evidently more preoccupied with playing tonsil hockey with another young patron, dressed quite untastefully as a priest, than to serve him; she tugged playfully at his white clerical collar, giggling sloppily. Sam sighed, patting her gently on the shoulder. She whipped around, with a growl, tugging the priest along by his rosary beads, and gestured wildly to Sam, her slit-like eyes silently telling him to grab his own drink. _I’m busy,_ her hostile posterior exhumed, her mouth never detaching from her _friends_.

Sam quickly hopped over the bar, hastily grabbed a bottle of cheap malt, and then made his unwelcome goodbyes.

He took a cheeky gulp, as he moved carefully across the room, not having any particular destination in mind, the liquor burning his throat, he winced. He sat uncomfortably on a dark set of stairs, leading precariously to the second floor, where he decided he dare not venture. He delved into his whiskey, deciding that this party ultimately _sucked_.

“Lookin’ for a date?” an altogether too-sweet a voice inquired, drawing Sam’s immediate attention, his hands tearing anxiously at the label of his whiskey bottle. For a matter of seconds, he silently hoped the voice belonged to the outrageous dancer from earlier, he was sourly disappointed, when his eyes were greeted by a striking blonde. Sam’s mouth hung open in objection. With a _lust_ ful flick of her tongue, she was sat beside him, not awaiting an answer.

“You look a little lost…?” She questioned, toying with the hem of his sleeve. Sam promptly ignored her, his lips pressed together in a thin line _. Definitely sucks,_ he mused. She seemingly fed off his coldness, pressing her hardly concealed breasts into his shoulder, and giving them a little jiggle for ~~wasted~~ -effect.

Sam quickly stood up, and was beginning to process of rejecting her advances, when he was shoved to the floor, with a painful thud, by two firm hands. “Shit.” He grimaced.  

“Get your fucking hands off her-!” The seedy-looking man sneered, his face green with _envy_ at the pair. Sam sluggishly pulled himself up off the floor, and dusted off his trousers, he was decidedly much taller than his accuser, but still, he didn’t want any trouble, not when he feeling more and more exceedingly uncomfortable in his environment. He quickly started in the opposite direction, but was forcibly turned around by a lardy hand, which had been waiting behind him. A _gluttonous_ man, greedily stuffing his face full of slimy sandwiches (Note to self: Avoid the buffet), shoving him back towards to the other two.  

“Sorry,” Sam pressed, hands held up in surrender, eager to get out of this altercation. “ I didn’t-“ The three were swiftly joined by _four_ others. Sam’s stomach dropped in apprehension. He was surrounded by one of the gangs he was hoping to avoid, each member as terrifying as the next.

Sam cursed, staring at each of them in turn.

**Seven of them**. _I’m screwed._    

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya. So, I adore Sam and Ruby, and yet I have never read a Fanfic that centers entirely around Sam and his 'Drug Addiction' If it were to occur in an alternative reality(from start to finish), so I decided i'd take up that honor, and frankly, jus' give it a go. I'm rusty, if this first chapter is anything to go by--so I would appreciate some constructive criticism, if that's possible, oh! and a little support if you'd like.  
> Now down to business. WARNING In Advance. This story is not a conventionally 'happy' story, and in all honesty with what I've planned, i'm not entirely sure it'll have a happy ending- It's all downhill from here guys. A D-Evolution if you like? There is heavy drug use (Which I am NOT promoting in anyway, though it may seem like it at times), some intense sex scenes, character deaths and generally just major adult themes. Are you ready? 'cause I'm not. [Rating may increase.]


End file.
